


You Deserve To Be Loved

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, but technically they're both xander's, laslow takes two dicks up the butt, please stop letting me write porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9792257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Laslow really can't explain why Lord Xander tries to give him everything he ever asks for. He went very far out of his way to make this happen, for Laslow.





	

This is awkward, perhaps, but Laslow thinks it will be alright. He’s comfortable like this, for the most part. His knees are bent back and spread wide. Rough fingertips dig deep into his thighs, beneath his knees, to keep him open wide and on display like this. Laslow’s head lulls back. It falls against a broad shoulder. He’s familiar with it, sort of. When he turns his eyes up, lidded by overwhelming desire, he sees what looks like his liege. His legs are held apart by hands that should belong to Lord Xander, but…

 

But they do not. Laslow is _very_ aware of that. Oh, this man behind him… he’s doing everything right. He trails his mouth hot over Laslow’s shoulder and he knows just where Laslow wants him to dig his teeth in. He keeps inching Laslow’s knees back closer to his own chest, he’s awfully familiar with Laslow’s flexibility but… he is not Xander. Not really.

 

He is only a replica but he seems more than equipped to do this job. He is composed in such a way that he feels and looks and acts human enough. It is an interesting ability, to split a man into two identical beings who share a life force. He is soft where Xander is soft and he is _hard_ where Xander is hard… but his eyes seem empty, void of most emotions. He does, however, wear a pleasant hint of a smile on his lips. He touches Laslow like he has touched him a thousand times before, but he hasn’t. It’s foreign and new and _strange_ and Laslow… well if he wasn’t so pleasantly distracted from it, he might have more time to be bothered.

 

" _Xander!"_ Distraction comes in the form of pleasure that makes his chest heave and his toes curl and Laslow can’t help it, he cries out his lord's name while he digs his fingers hard into the replica’s arms. Xander, _his Xander_ , is positioned between his open legs, thrusting slowly, precisely, _torturously_. He spent a great deal more time than usual spreading Laslow open, today. It was torture, of course. Torture to have the prince spend so much time easing him open, when he could have been fucking him. Torture to have him kiss over his thighs and tell him he's doing well, and ask him what he wants. 

 

Laslow is a man who has no idea what he wants. He would like to say it is just the opposite. If a perfect stranger met him in town and asked him what he wanted in this life, Laslow might hum and tell him that his life would be complete with the company of a beautiful wife and a world of peace to live in… and that is probably because he once believed that, too.

 

Falling in love with Xander happened rapidly and unexpectedly, and realizing he was in love with his prince was a mess in its own right, but Laslow learned, through it, that he would never have been happy with just anyone. His daydreams of a happy life grew and changed… and they settled on this man, who could not be farther from Laslow's usual taste in women. He's... an incredible man, though. He is the man Laslow wishes he could be, some days. Other days he is a man who needs to be held, who needs to be comforted. He is a man who deserves the absolute best this world has to offer. Could he really think he sees that in Laslow?

 

 _Torture_ is the way Xander moves so slow while he fucks into Laslow. Torture is the weight of his cock on Laslow’s prostate, heavy and plump and not fast enough, not hard enough. It’s frustrating! So Laslow opens his mouth, shifts his attention to his liege and quite frankly means to scold him, but... Xander kisses him. His eyes blink open wide before they settle closed and he shifts. He lifts his arms to wrap tight around Xander’s neck. His Xander—his _real Xander_. Make no mistake, he’s aware that the replica is essentially the same man, but… _this_ is the man who Laslow has fallen in love with. This is the man who is calling the shots—who decided it was alright to tease him like this. He deserves to be scolded. Instead Laslow kisses him like he can give him salvation. He can—he will. They’ve talked about this.

 

This is a long time coming. What started with Xander slipping in a finger or two alongside his cock when they made love has slowly blossomed into a desire, in Laslow. Almost a need, kindling deep inside of him just waiting to burn, an itch that he simply can’t scratch. _More._ And so he gasps into Xander’s mouth when he feels it, feels him reach down and ease the tips of his first two fingers past his rim. He gasps, but he does his best to spread his legs open further. He’s not so sure that’s even possible. 

 

“Anxious, Laslow?” Xander’s voice is smooth and hot against Laslow’s lips where he breaks apart their kiss. How can he be so calm? Laslow is a mess. He’s dripping with excitement, shaking with nerves and anticipation and...he's been waiting for this for so long. They’ve talked about this, they’ve made the arrangements. Today is the day. Xander spoils him. Laslow can’t even explain why, he’s hardly done anything to deserve it. He would give his life for his prince in an instant but he isn’t the most exemplary retainer to ever be. He’s not even close. No, he has no idea what makes the handsome first prince think he deserves all the effort that goes into this but… he certainly won’t complain.

 

Xander pulls away from Laslow with his hips, his cock slides out to nearly just his tip. Where Laslow craves fullness, Xander withdraws his cock instead, and Laslow _might_ complain about that. (Is he teasing him again?) Before he even can form those words, Xander snaps his hips forward again. This time,  _with_ his cock his fingers slip in deep as well, sending a jolt of lightning licking up Laslow's spine. “Oh.” Laslow breathes. It’s good—it’s nice—It’s _still_ not what he truly wants. “ _Please_.”

 

“Please, what?” Xander echoes. Laslow bites his own lip and considers asking the question out loud... but he also considers ignoring the question out of spite. Xander knows exactly what he wants! And he’s not a cruel lover, Laslow knows, and so he gives it to him. He spreads his fingers open and works Laslow so he is as pliant as he can be, and all the while Laslow’s fingers scrabble along the prince’s back with impatient little noises.  “Are you ready?”

 

Oh, yes. He’s been ready since the day he first entertained the idea. He’s been burning, deep down inside, and he is set on fire by this exact, pending moment. Still, his voice cracks when he says “Yes. _Please_ , I’m ready.” He nods his head too, let there be no mistake. He is very ready. Xander has prepared him in excess for this moment. He has taken great strides to ensure Laslow won’t be hurt by this. It is almost sweet, in all of its drawn out torture. He has already promised: Laslow will feel nothing but pleasure. Laslow is sure that is true, but his eyes still open wider when the grip that the replica has on his thighs grows tighter, and just like that he _lifts him_.

 

He will never stop finding it incredible. He is a grown man and Xander always lifts him like he is nothing at all. Or—the replica. That is _not_ Xander. Or, it is, but it still seems strange to Laslow and so he prefers it this way, where he is facing the man he loves. Where he can hold him, and kiss him while they…

 

“… _Ah!”_ Xander withdraws partially, his fingers along with him, but while Laslow is lifted like this Xander is able to guide his replica’s length close to his, and the tip slips—slick and hot—against Laslow’s entrance. He wants this _so bad_ , and it’s happening. This is happening, and he has been _waiting for this_.

 

Laslow hangs his weight off of his lord’s neck and shoulders, but it doesn’t appear to bother him. He manages to kiss the corner of Laslow’s mouth, and to whisper, “You need only ask me to stop…”

 

 _As if_. Besides, the rest of Xander’s thought gets lost in translation where he dips his tongue into Laslow’s mouth. It is during that kiss that the head of the Replica’s cock begins to work its way in, alongside Xander’s. He’s still holding Laslow up by his hips, but once his cock is inside he starts to lower him down, letting gravity do most of the work. “Hah,” Laslow breathes out his moan into Xander’s mouth, but he can’t focus on kissing anymore. Instead he just grips tight. Xander supports him, with one arm. He spreads the palm of his hand out along Laslow’s lower back and drags it across his skin. It’s soothing… considering Laslow is too full. He wanted this, don’t get him wrong. He still does! Still, with every little bit further in those two cocks press inside of him, he thinks he’s just walking the edge of too much. He _loves it_. He digs his fingernails into Xander’s back and he whimpers “Don’t stop,” Ah, gods, don’t stop. It’s so big. It’s so full, so hot, his body is finally on _fire_ with how desperately he needs this, and how long he has dreamt of this.

 

He eventually becomes aware of hands on his hips. The replica’s. He realizes with a thrilled groan that he’s seated, that it’s really happened. Xander’s cock fills him up but alongside the replica’s it fills him up _twice_ as much. He looks back at Xander and an excited smile slips over his face. _I did it!_ He wants to say, but more than that he wants to feel all of them. Both of them. His Xander, and the replica both. He grinds his hips down, squirms and tries to sink down lower. He wants more. _A_ _nd then they thrust_. Both of them, and it’s a mess. Laslow cries out and falls back against the replica’s chest, but he catches him. He wraps his arms around him safe and secure while the both of them do the best they can to fuck up into Laslow with some semblance of coordination. He can hear it from here, where he turns his head and absently kisses the replica’s neck. His breathing. It’s growing heavier as he scrambles to push his hips up into Laslow.

 

Why does Laslow kiss him there? Why does Laslow kiss him at all? It’s not real, is it? Can Xander feel his kisses on the replica’s skin? His eyes slide shut and he reaches up with one of his arms and combs it through the replica’s hair.

 

He feels like Xander. And he hears him hum— _His Xander_ —hum. Maybe there is more of a connection between them than Laslow knows? He’s never mastered the replicate skill. All he truly knows is that he needs this. Oh, gods, he needs it like he needs to breathe. His lord has always been well endowed to begin with, but this, _two of him_ … it’s incredible. Oh it’s amazing, every tiny movement takes his breath away. He closes his fist in the replica’s hair and tugs only somewhat gently. Xander, in turn, jerks his hips forward. "Ah," Laslow melts. With the two of them there, this is bliss. One of them is always squished hard against his prostate, it seems, no matter how Laslow squirms his hips… the pressure is so good, his orgasm is already building.

 

Can he even dare imagine how wonderful it will be?

 

Laslow won’t admit that he’s melted into nothing. It’s around the time that the replica pinches the bud of his nipple and Laslow can do nothing more than _whine_ that he realizes it. He's not falling apart, he already has dissolved at the seams. He swears his vision was not this hazy only moments ago. The way that these two cocks move within him is _wild_. There’s not such thing as a rhythm or timing, just pressure and delight and hot build up and _full_. So full. Full, full, full. “Ha,” A chuckle. A _chuckle?_ Laslow blinks slow and blearily, lifts his head like it isn’t heavy, so he can look at Xander, in front of him.

 

“Wha...?” He tries, but it comes out quiet, and confused. “M-Milord..?”

 

“You’re beautiful.” Xander breathes. He leans over him and kisses over Laslow’s jaw, and cheek, and finally his lips. Beautiful? What? He’s a mess and he knows it. Sweat and an excess of oil between his thighs and he’s come undone but… Oh, he believes him. Xander looks _so genuine._ _Nothing_ he says can be a lie, right now. He slips his hand down from Laslow’s cheek, through his hair and then back down to his jaw once more. Laslow can barely think of anything, can hardly focus outside of leaning his face into that touch.

 

He loves him oh, so much, but he doesn’t know how to make those words come out of his mouth in that moment. It’s just a low moan while the replica bites too-rough into his neck, and while Xander moves his hand away from Laslow’s face and instead down to Laslow’s strained, pathetic cock. It barely takes a stroke! Laslow swears he was teetering on the edge without being touched at all, gods, he almost blew his load when he was first penetrated like this. His orgasm is a _chain reaction_. Laslow’s voice cracks. He has to fall into the arms of the replica because he’s broken. His lips part but his moan is _silent_ , he can’t get it out.

 

Of course he spasms. His body tries so hard to clamp shut and seize up but all he can do is struggle and ripple around those two, fat cocks pressed up inside of him. It’s too much, it puts too much pressure on his walls, on his prostate—This is incredible. It’s the end of the world. It’s shooting stars falling out of the sky and into his skin, burning him up. He’s useless. He comes hard but when he comes down from it every bone in his body is soft. He can barely hold his legs apart, they sag pathetically. Each thrust thereafter draws tiny gasps and whimpers out of him, but he loves it. Yes, he loves it. He’s exhausted, high on bliss, but he loves even more that he can see the moment his lover comes. He can see his prince’s face screw up in pleasure, he can almost see the hot breath that shudders from his throat… he can feel the replica bite down that much harder on his neck. Did they come in unison? Laslow supposes that makes sense, if they’re the same man.

 

For a few moments, he lays there. He could almost fall asleep, listening to Xander’s broken breathing and the replica’s heartbeat. He doesn’t fall asleep there, though. Xander shifts first, slips out of Laslow and it’s _empty_ and uncomfortable and Laslow wants that fullness _back_. A moment later the replica shifts, lays Laslow down onto the sheets beneath them.

 

He vanishes. With a light glow and a deep breath the Replica fades away, and Xander is one man, again. One man who crawls over Laslow and leans close to kiss over the bite mark the replica left. It’s bleeding—just a bit. Laslow hardly noticed at the time. He hardly notices now, only knows that Xander’s kisses sting, just a bit. “Milord,” he breathes out. He tries to lift his hands into Xander's hair but he finds he doesn't think he can muster the energy. Xander lays down at his side and Laslow hums, soft and sweet. The hum turns into a tiny ‘oof’ when the prince pulls him close, rolls Laslow onto his side to tuck him under his chin and against his chest.

 

Laslow is spoiled rotten by this prince. He could never explain why. He’s done nothing to deserve it. He’ll never deserve it. But he loves it, and so when Xander whispers “I love you very much, Laslow,” into his ear he nods his head and smiles. He loves Xander very much, too. Maybe he'll find a way to earn that love, one day. For now he closes his eyes, to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> pls i can explain: 
> 
> two dicks are better than one dick


End file.
